Snowflake
by Sincerely Yours- C.M.D
Summary: *AU* Swindle had gotten First Aid, and now Vortex was bored. He needed a distraction. Could one Autobot do the trick? Mech/Mech slash; sexual language


**C.M.D: I enjoy writing about different pairings, especially exploring different character types. These two started more as a joke and I eventually have grown to love them as equally as my other batch of written characters. One thing to note, I have designed an "age" system of sorts- Younglings that are "16" are legally free to pursue sexual relationships with mechs of any age (especially older), but are not recognized as full mechs and don't receive all their rights until "18". Just for people to understand my thinking process here.**  
**Originally posted on here, separately, now compiled in one fic.**

* * *

It was no fair that his greasy, little brother always seemed to get the good stuff first.

Vortex scowled as he watched Swindle hurry out the door, racing to the curb to where First Aid stood; the two greeting each other in a fashion that most would call adorable and coo at. It made the helicopter want to purge.

"Hey Brawl," he called lazily over a shoulder plating, not taking his visor away from the window and his two, soon-to-be victims within view. "First Aid is here. Why don't you go outside and say hello to the young love-birds?"

"FIRST AID! HE'S HERE!," came the exuberant roar. "I WANT TO SNUGGLE HIM!" The entire house seemed to shake as Brawl, from which ever room he had just been in, hurried to get outside. There was a scream that was heard clearly through the sound-proof glass, announcing Brawl's amazing success at getting outdoors quickly, before the giant tank was running into Vortex's sight; charging for the little protectobot standing with their youngest sibling.

It was hilarious watching Swindle attempt being heroic, lasting maybe a second as shield to First Aid before Brawl merely knocked him off to the side and cuddled the white mech to his chassis in a crushing hug. The helicopter felt his humor taper off though the longer he watched his idiot of a brother hug Swindle's mechfriend; getting to his pedes angrily and skulking from the room.

"Honestly, what did you expect would happen?" Vortex started at the unexpected statement, turning his helm to the mech leaning against the wall to his berthroom door. The shuttle had his attention fixed on an old datapad in his servos, not even tearing his optics away from his reading as he continued in that bored drawl of his. "Jealousy is most unbecoming of you, my dear brother."

"Blow it out your aft," the grey Decepticon hissed.

"How crude of you. As always." Blast Off sighed, turning off his datapad for a moment, and finally glancing at the psycho. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day when Brawl could make you jealous, of anything. Is it really that bothersome that neither Swindle nor First Aid will allow you to give him hugs? Or is that just your libido grouching like usual?"

Vortex merely glared at his brother before moving on. Not concerned, the brown mech turned his datapad back on, indulging himself in the classic piece of literature he had been enjoying just moments before. From downstairs, Onslaught shouted for Vortex to take a coat if he was going outside, since the meteorologist on the news stream was calling for snow that evening. It was uncertain if the grey mech listened or not as the kitchen door slammed shut behind him.

**xxXxXxx**

Even as infuriating as Blast Off could be sometimes, he was also right. It wasn't like him to be jealous of Brawl and Vortex frowned in confusion at that little fact. What did it mean? Was he really just super horny and upset that he wasn't getting any? "Hmm... Guess so," he mumbled to himself as a pretty femme walked past the helicopter's table; pristine hips and nice, heavy-loaded aft shaking in time with her step.

"Maybe a good frag will do me good," Vortex continued to muse out loud, leaning back in his seat, ignoring the odd looks an old couple were giving him in the booth across from his. "A good, hot and sticky frag. Now... do I want to be spiked or do the spiking? And where the hell will I find someone cheap at this time of orn?"

The Decepticon cocked his helm to the side, thinking deeply. "No, definitely should spike," he nodded, as if having a sexual conversation in public with himself was the most normal thing a 'bot could do. "Someone cute, big chassis and a perk aft. I like my valves nice and tight after all; well lubricated as well."

The couple gaped in horror, getting to their pedes and quickly leaving their table.

Vortex still did not notice them. "Mmmmm... yeah, that should be good. Someone who's maybe a little bit of a screamer too and who won't mind getting on their fragging knees and sucking me off. I'll be a Picasso of fragging and smear that lovely plating in my transfluids. Bet they'd look fragging hot with their lip components parted and my spunk splattered across their cheekpl-"

"S-sir!"

"Hmm?," the helicopter turned to the femme standing beside him, visor flashing as his optics shuttered innocently behind it. The barista, though terrified of this stranger, held her ground; lifting a shaking servo and pointing to the door of the cafe.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she hurriedly ordered. "And to not come back."

Vortex glanced from her, to the rest of the patrons looking back at him warily, before shrugging and getting to his pedes. He flipped a credit onto the table, heading to the door with an easy swag in his step. "Your oil tastes like something Brawl would piss out anyways," he commented, before returning to his earlier mumblings about his preference in berth partners.

**xxXxXxx**

"Would you look at that? It's snowing!"

"Fireflight, please pay attention. I don't want to lose you in this big crowd. Skydive, would you kindly take Air Raid's servo please." Silverbolt sighed, shifting the bags of groceries in his arms so he could grab hold of Slingshot before he could go tearing off after some petrorabbit he swore he just saw. "Listen, this is a very big place and I don't want any of you to get lost, so would you please behave," he begged of his creations, hoping that maybe, maybe, this one time they'd listen. Or, at least, two of them might.

But of course, Slingshot was still shouting and cursing loudly, trying to twist out of his grasp. Air Raid was laughing at his brother's misfortune and Skydive was doing his best to grab Fireflight with his other servo as the youngest flyer became more and more enthralled with the falling snow. Sometimes it was hard to believe that all of his sons were younglings, nearing mechhood. The concord couldn't help but sigh again.

"Alright, we just have to stop at the accessory shop so Skydive can pick up his honours pin for his graduation, and then we're heading on home," Silverbolt informed everyone. "Slingshot, since you want to cause so much trouble, you get to stay with me for the rest of the trip. Skydive, I am placing you in charge with watching your brothers."

"Of course, mom," Skydive replied respectively.

"Stupid slagger, you can't just go- ack!" Slingshot turned and snarled at Air Raid, trying to lunge at the F-15 eagle jet who had just smacked him upside the helm. He was halted from doing so by the quick tug on the scarf his creator still held in his grasp, effectively stopping the younger mech from tackling his laughing sibling.

"Alright, everyone, let's move," Silverbolt ordered tiredly, already marching off in the direction of the last shop of the orn. His sons started to follow.

"They really are pretty though...," Fireflight commented at the rear of the group, his optics fixed wholly on the sky above. "The way they shimmer and sparkle, drifting down like little feathers. I wonder if they're soft too!" The phantom jet hold his servos up into the air, trying to catch the snowflakes. But no sooner would his plating touch one, then it melted, leaving only behind the glimmer of contact in its wake. Intrigued by the strange occurrence, Fireflight weaved through the people around him distractedly, trying to find a better spot to catch snowflakes from. Neither him nor his family noticed when he wandered away from them.

So fixated on the heavy clouds above was he, that the small mech didn't notice the Decepticon heading towards him from the opposite direction, until the two of them collided, falling to the floor.

"Listen," croaked the stranger. "If you're going to knock me down, can you have the decency to at least spike me afterwards?"

"What? Oh...," Fireflight pushed himself up dazedly, confused by the other's words. "I'm very sorry. I was busy trying to catch snowflakes."

Vortex shuttered his optics behind his visor. "You were... what?," he mumbled, having almost missed entirely what the Autobot had just said. He was too busy after all gawking at that lovely red and white plating, and those large, innocent baby blue optics.

"Snowflakes!," chirped the cutie merrily. He stood up, pointing to the sky with his finger. "See how they're all falling down? They're so pretty and fluffy, and I thought I would catch one to feel how soft it is. But I guess I am too warm, seeing as they melt before I have the chance to tell..."

This mech was a nutcase! And the helicopter liked it.

"Yeah, I'd definitely say you're hot," he purred, scrambling up and slinging an arm around the shorter 'bot's shoulder plating. "Say, why don't you and me go find a warm place of our own, hmm?"

His rotor blades shivered at the wicked thoughts Vortex was having just there and then, brushing sensually up along the jet's wings. Fireflight giggled a little, finding the touch ticklish, turning his helm up to the Decepticon. "You're a funny mech," the youngling laughed some more. "I'm already warm, but I'm not surprised you're cold. You're not even wearing a scarf and my mommy is always telling me to take good care of myself so I don't get a virus."

"Uh..." Vortex gaped at the Autobot, though he knew the other couldn't see it behind his mask. Mommy? What was this mech, like five stellar cycles old? Who referred to their creator anymore as 'mommy'? The grey mech frowned, studying the other 'bot intently. Well, he was indeed a little short, and not as busty as Vortex usually preferred yet not entirely flat either, so it didn't appear as if the jet was too young. At least not in the physical sense.

But...

"Just how old are you anyways?," the helicopter asked uncertainly, cutting off Fireflight's jabbering.

"Oh well, I'll be sixteen stellar cycles come the next quartex, but my brothers are all older than me. Skydive is going to be graduating soon, top of his class. Mommy's really proud," he answered cheerfully, unwinding the scarf from around his neck.

Sixteen and the 'bot didn't get that Vortex was trying to take him somewhere private so he could frag the mech's processor into meltdown. Definitely a virgin. The Decepticon wasn't really sure if he wanted to tap that anymore, though a sealed 'bot's valve was always the tightest. They were just too clingy and needing "love" most of the time. Hmmm... it would be a tough decision indeed, Vortex noted.

"Anyways, here," Fireflight was saying, bringing the helicopter out of his thoughts. The phantom jet reached up, even going on his pede-tips, just to toss the scarf over the other's stunned helm. Smiling warmly, the Autobot then fixed everything, making sure the scarf was snug around Vortex's neck cables but not enough to choke him. He did not notice that this brought their faces close together. "It's not much, but a scarf will help make sure you don't get an infection in your vocalizer at least. Slingshot got one there one time and it made him really cranky. He complained about it for orns, and mommy looked really tired at the end of it all. You'll be warmer this way anyhow and mmhppmhph!"

Well, youngling or not, the stranger was cute. Vortex quickly snapped his mask back, lunging forward and catching the Autobot's lip components in a fierce kiss. At the unexpected assault, Fireflight gasped, giving the psychotic mech the chance to slip his glossa into his mouth and ravage the area within. Mewling, as core temperatures rocketed and pleasure zinged across his sensory grid, the flyer reached out and grasped the Decepticon's shoulder plating; blunt fingers digging in between the seams painfully.

Ohhhh... Vortex groaned, pulling the phantom jet flush to his frame as his lust was fanned by the harsh grip. Yes, this 'bot was definitely a keeper. He couldn't wait for whatever lovely gifts the Autobot would bestow upon him once he actually got under that plating.

Nipping playfully along the other's bottom lip component, the grey mech finally withdrew, sorely tempted just to dive right back in when he saw Fireflight staring up at him in a flushed daze. "You liked that, did you snowflake?," the Decepticon smirked, getting hotter by the astrosecond. "How 'bout you let me take you home then, show you something even better. I promise it'll be good."

The jet's blush deepened, his wings twitching behind him a little. "I-i-i-i," he stammered.

"Fireflight! Fireflight, where are you?," a voice called, startling the white and red mech.

"O-oh!," he cried, turning his helm away from Vortex. "That's my family. Oh no, I guess that means I lost them again. I hope I didn't worry them too much..."

Vortex pouted at the proclamation. Autobot families were always such a bother sometimes. "Well, I suppose I'll get going," he sighed sulkily. He released Fireflight, turning on his pede and starting off in the other direction.

"But, oh, didn't you want to see my mommy and brothers?," the phantom jet called after him. "I could come play at your house after."

Aww, he thought they were just going to go play or something. Honestly, the flyer's naivety was quite adorable. Vortex chuckled, shaking his helm as he paused, looking back to Fireflight. "No worries, we'll 'play' another day," he grinned wickedly, reaching up and clicking his mask into place.

"Ah, okay!," Fireflight beamed. That only lasted for about a nanoklik before the smile dropped from the youngling's face as confusion made itself known. "But how will I find you? I don't know your name."

"FIREFLIGHT!?," screamed an impatient voice. The Autobot jumped, turning his helm to the side anxiously. When Vortex spoke again, he made sure to give the Decepticon his whole attention.

"Don't worry about it, kiddo," Vortex assured, his rotor blades fluttering lightly behind him. "I'll find you. Trust me." Then he turned around again, quickly hurrying away before he was spotted by any of Fireflight's older siblings or creator.

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**C.M.D: I hope you enjoyed what you've read so far! There is more to the story, but because it becomes more adult in nature from here, you'll have to kindly follow one of my links to another site to continue reading. Thanks again and see you all next story!**


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